Peak Season Frustrations, UPS

Written By; Gary Wonning

One of my first years on the job, I arrived back at the center about five o’clock on Christmas Eve. I was looking forward to going home and enjoying the evening attending church and unwrapping gifts with my family. I hadn’t been home before dark for a couple of months.

Lying in the middle of the floor of the center were a stack of parcels about four feet tall. There had been a late feeder arrive in Indianapolis that morning and consequently the parcels had missed the morning sort. The parcels were unloaded and sent to the extended centers during the day, and were waiting for us when we returned.

We were to find anything in the stack that was on our delivery area and go back out and deliver them. Man, I would sooner get hit with a blivet stick than go back out there. My delivery area is thirty five miles south of here, and I live fifteen miles north. But I knew I couldn’t enjoy my Christmas if I knew there was a parcel for some little kid in that pile and he or she wasn’t going to be able to get it before Christmas.

Reluctantly, hoping against hope I began looking for something. Thankfully, I found nothing that was on my area. I did find a couple addressed to my home town, I picked them up, grabbed a couple of delivery sheets and headed off to Batesville in my pick-up truck, delivering them on my way home.

The forgotten gifts were all delivered that evening; some drivers didn’t get home until after nine pm.

The author has been a writer/photographer for over thirty years. Specializing in nature and landscape photography, as well as studying native cultures.

His travels have taken him to most of the United States, as well as Australia, Belize, Egypt and the Canary Islands.

He has studied the Mayan culture of Central America as well as the aborigines of Australia. Photography has given him the opportunity to observe life in various parts of the world.

He has published several books about his adventures.

For more information, please consult his website,www.journeysthrulife.com.

Your comments are welcome

The Depressed Dog

The Power of Microbiology

There was once a veterinarian who loved to hack gene sequences. One day he successfully grafted pieces of cantaloupe DNA to the DNA of a dog zygote.

The engineered zygote soon developed into a little puppy. The result was far less dramatic than one might expect. The animal was recognizably canine, if tiny and rolly poly. Its fur had an overall orange tint. The vet raised the puppy to adulthood and all was generally fine, though the animal was rather small and rotund. The veterinarian noticed that his dog was becoming lethargic and increasingly morose. Being concerned with the animal’s overall health and mental well-being, the vet tried many things to cure his dog’s apparent depression. After all, he felt guilty that its rowing languishment could be the direct result of his genetic experimentation. He tried altering the animal’s diet, its exercise, and its play, but nothing seemed to help.

Finally, he took the dog to an animal psychiatrist. The vet sat in the waiting room while the orange tinted dog was in with the animal counselor.

Finally, the door opened, and the veterinarian rose to his feet. The psychiatrist came out with the dog. “Tell me, Doctor. What’s wrong?

Is my dog going to be okay?”

“Don’t worry, Doctor. He’ll be fine. He’s just a little melon collie.”

The blogger has been a writer/photographer for over thirty years. Specializing in nature and landscape photography, as well as studying native cultures.

His travels have taken him to most of the United States, as well as Australia, Belize, Egypt and the Canary Islands.

He has studied the Mayan culture of Central America as well as the aborigines of Australia. Photography has given him the opportunity to observe life in various parts of the world.

He has published several books about his adventures.

For more information, please consult his website,www.journeysthrulife.com.

Your comments are welcome

The Netherlands Flag

photo of the pyramids at sunrise

The sun rises over the Egyptian plain

The Netherlands Flag

A visitor from Holland was chatting with his American friend and was jokingly explaining about the red, white and blue in
the Netherlands flag.

“Our flag symbolizes our taxes,” he said. “We get red when we talk about them, white when we get our tax bill, and blue
after we pay them.”

“That’s the same with us,” the American said, “only we see stars, too.”

capiture of a ups driver making a delivery

A UPS driver making a delivery to a beautiful blonde

The blogger has been a writer/photographer for over thirty years. Specializing in nature and landscape photography, as well as studying native cultures.

His travels have taken him to most of the United States, as well as Australia, Belize, Egypt and the Canary Islands.

He has studied the Mayan culture of Central America as well as the aborigines of Australia. Photography has given him the opportunity to observe life in various parts of the world.

He has published several books about his adventures.

For more information, please consult his website,www.journeysthrulife.com.

Your comments are welcome

Women of the World,Unite

photo of sail boats

Sail Boat Races in Antigua

Women of the World – Unite!

Take all American women who are within five years of menopause – train us for a few weeks, outfit us with automatic weapons, grenades, gas masks, moisturizer with SPF15, Prozac, hormones, chocolate, and canned tuna -drop us (parachuted, preferably) across the landscape of Afghanistan, and let us do what comes naturally.

Think about it. Our anger quotient alone, even when doing standard stuff like grocery shopping and paying bills, is formidable enough to make even armed men in turbans tremble.

We’ve had our children, we would gladly suffer or die to protect them and their future. We’d like to get away from our husbands if they haven’t left already. And for those of us who are single, the prospect of finding a man with whom to share life is about as likely as being struck by lightning. We have nothing to lose.

We’ve survived the water diet, the protein diet, the carbohydrate diet, the cabbage soup diet and the grapefruit diet in gyms and saunas across America and never lost a pound. We can easily survive months in the hostile terrain of Afghanistan with no food at all!

We’ve spent years tracking down our husbands or lovers in bars, hardware stores, or sporting events…finding bin Laden in some cave will be no problem.

Uniting all the warring tribes of Afghanistan in a new government? Oh, please … we’ve planned the seating arrangements for in-laws and extended families at Thanksgiving dinners for years … we understand tribal warfare.

Between us, we’ve divorced enough husbands to know every trick there is for how they hide, launder, or cover up bank accounts and money sources.
We know how to find that money and we know how to seize it … with or without the government’s help!

Let us go and fight. The Taliban hates women. Imagine their terror as we crawl like ants with hot-flashes over their godforsaken terrain. I’m going to write my Congresswoman. You should, too!

The blogger has been a writer/photographer for over thirty years. Specializing in nature and landscape photography, as well as studying native cultures.

His travels have taken him to most of the United States, as well as Australia, Belize, Egypt and the Canary Islands.

He has studied the Mayan culture of Central America as well as the aborigines of Australia. Photography has given him the opportunity to observe life in various parts of the world.

He has published several books about his adventures.

For more information, please consult his website,www.journeysthrulife.com.

Your comments are welcome

The Humorous Side Of The Fire (Those Were the Days)

photo of the Cozumel beach

The beach at Cozumel

Written By: Gary Wonning

Besides the car ride home, the day did have its humorous moments. One of our neighbors, seeing the smoke from the house came down to investigate. Finding no one home, he began to take the washed clothes off the clothesline my mom had hung up before her nap. After he had all the clothes in his arms, he discovered there was nowhere to put them, so he hung them back up.

The author has been a writer/photographer for over thirty years. Specializing in nature and landscape photography, as well as studying native cultures.

His travels have taken him to most of the United States, as well as Australia, Belize, Egypt and the Canary Islands.

He has studied the Mayan culture of Central America as well as the aborigines of Australia. Photography has given him the opportunity to observe life in various parts of the world.

He has published several books about his adventures.

For more information, please consult his website,www.journeysthrulife.com.

Your comments are welcome

Yo Quiero Liver and Cheese

Yo Quiero Liver and Cheese

The Taco Bell Chihuahua, a Doberman, and a Bulldog are in a doggie bar having a cool drink when a good-looking
female Collie comes up to them and says, “Whoever can creatively say liver and cheese in a sentence can have
me.”

So, the Doberman quickly says, “I love liver and cheese.”

The Collie remarks, “That’s just not good enough.”

The Bulldog says, “I hate liver and cheese.”

The Collie remarks, “That’s not creative.”

Finally, the Chihuahua speaks out, “Liver alone…
cheese mine.”

The blogger has been a writer/photographer for over thirty years. Specializing in nature and landscape photography, as well as studying native cultures.

His travels have taken him to most of the United States, as well as Australia, Belize, Egypt and the Canary Islands.

He has studied the Mayan culture of Central America as well as the aborigines of Australia. Photography has given him the opportunity to observe life in various parts of the world.

He has published several books about his adventures.

For more information, please consult his website,www.journeysthrulife.com.

Your comments are welcome

Our House Was Burning

Written By: Gary Wonning

Jumping in the car we sped towards home, gaining speed as we went, this was to be a wild ride. Our first hazard was a state high at the bottom of the hill on the county road we were traveling. Looking both ways and seeing nothing coming, my dad never even slowed down.

Knowing the tires on the car were not in very good condition, I asked dad if we weren’t going too fast, he never answered. Car seats or OSHA was unthought of, I was standing in the back seat hanging on for dear life. The road was unpaved and gravel was flying everywhere.

The author has been a writer/photographer for over thirty years. Specializing in nature and landscape photography, as well as studying native cultures.

His travels have taken him to most of the United States, as well as Australia, Belize, Egypt and the Canary Islands.

He has studied the Mayan culture of Central America as well as the aborigines of Australia. Photography has given him the opportunity to observe life in various parts of the world.

He has published several books about his adventures.

For more information, please consult his website,www.journeysthrulife.com.

Your comments are welcome